Last night during raid, our non-raid chat channel got to chatting about how amusing it would be if a warlock were to allow their Voidwalker to raise their child. Inspiration struck, and I am left with a ridiculous story about a Voidwalker nanny. Enjoy the fruits of our silliness.
Nefaria Dirge was with child. She discovered this quite accidentally while getting patched up by a priest after a particularly nasty summoning spell went awry.
“Oh! Congratulations on your little blessing!”
“What the hell are you talking about you Light addled loon?”
The priest was taken aback. “Well, there’s no need for such coarse language. After all, you don’t want your baby hearing that!”
Nefaria blinked. “What in the nine hells do you mean by ‘baby’? I’m not having a baby!”
“Oh but you are!” The priest placed her hand on Nefaria’s abdomen and smiled as a soft glow began to bloom.
“Really Miss Dirge, you will need to keep your language in check…” The priest was beginning to have doubts about Nefaria’s ability to parent.
For what it was worth (nothing) Nefaria already knew she wouldn’t be a good parent, but at the same time, she did worry about what would happen to her should she slip into the Nether without anyone to claim her. A child would be good insurance against an eternity with only demons for company.
So Nefaria set about finding a proper nanny to raise her young. As a Blood Elf of noble birth, she knew that a child could turn out well and happy with minimal parental involvement. Just look at how she turned out! Yes, a nanny would be the best course of action. But finding a suitable nanny was a very big problem.
First she would need to cut the undesirables. No Forsaken. No one wants a corpse raising a child. Besides, the long-term effects of being exposed to someone who was held together with stitches and willpower was unknown. Nefaria would be damned if her child would be used as a test subject for anyone but her.
No orcs either. Their blood lust was barely in check and they had a tendency toward density that she found unnerving. No one wants a stupid child. No Tauren. She found their strong resemblance to cattle distracting, and they were way too soft of the heart to be bearable.
Trolls then? No. Never. Just… Ugh. That unpleasant thought was quickly pushed out of her mind as she finally decided to put in inquires in Silvermoon City. She would look to her own people to raise her child, since she was too busy and too disinterested to do it herself.
“All right Miss…what does this say? Your handwriting is atrocious. You know what? This isn’t going to work. I don’t want my child to clutch a quill as if it were a turkey leg. Leave.”
“Mr. Sunspear? No. I hate your face. Leave now before I hit you.”
“Miss. Dawnhelm? Why do you keep blinking so much? This won’t work. I can’t stand being blinked at.”
“…you breathe too loudly.”
“…you smell wet.”
“I know the economy is bad, but I did say “No Taurens”. Your gown, while lovely, is not fooling anyone. I don’t even want to know where you got that blond wig. Also, you’re too hippy for that skirt.”
“GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!!!”
Nefaria sighed. Is everyone here woefully under qualified to raise a child? No wonder the Blood Elf population was in decline. She felt the baby give a small kick. Blinking in irritation, she was struck with a brilliant idea.
She reached into a jar on her shelf and pulled out a shimmering purple stone. Holding it in both hand, she bowed her head and mumbled a few words under her breath. The stone evaporated in a cloud of brackish mist, and the room became preternaturally still.
WHY DO YOU CALL?
“Don’t you take on that tone with me! I am your mistress and you will speak to me with respect Tangtast!”
The Voidwalker sighed, if that was even possible.
AS YOU WISH.
“I have a job for you Tangtast. A Job only the most obedient of my minions could carry out. I need you to raise my child.”
This revelation was greeted with a stunned silence.
“I’m serious! I’m not the mothering type, in fact, I have a great disdain for anyone and anything that isn’t me. But, in the interest of self-preservation, I have allowed this child to live and gestate within my body. At no small cost to myself I assure you. However, that is where my mothering ends. I don’t want some leaky sub-elf hanging on my skirts. This is where you come in. You will deal with the leaky sub-elf.”
She was quite pleased with her brilliant idea.
SEND ME BACK!
“Absolutely not! Your job is to do what I tell you. And what I am telling you to do is to raise my child to adulthood!”
I DON’T LIKE THIS PLACE.
“Well I don’t care. Tangtast, you will raise my child or so help me you will spend an eternity in a jar filled with pickled boar nose.”
IF I MUST.
The Voidwalker visibly sagged in resignation. He was sure he was not cut out for motherhood.
(I think we will be seeing more of poor put upon Tangtast's adventures in raising children.)